


Visitors Welcome

by RenaRoo



Series: Cass Appreciation Prompts [40]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Minor Characters: Dick Tim Damian Duke Alfred, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23386156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: It is Brenda's first time meeting Cassandra's family and it is Cass who is the most nervous.
Relationships: Cassandra Cain/Brenda Miller
Series: Cass Appreciation Prompts [40]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/266830
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	Visitors Welcome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luanna255](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luanna255/gifts).



> luanna801 asked: I have read your tags and obey, so: Cass/Brenda + Batfam + "unexpected addition to the family"?
> 
> A/N: You know me so well, Lu! How could I not do this one the second I saw it!?

Brenda was from Blüdhaven.

That information meant different things to different parties, but from what Cassandra could tell it had the most vivid effect on Dick who restated the fact on numerous occasions while they got marching orders from Alfred. It was often the only part of the commentary he got out as well.

“Master Richard, please fetch me the _navy_ table lining from the storeroom,” Alfred had said rather definitively while inspecting Tim’s job on the silver.

“She’s from _Blüdhaven,_ Alfie,” Dick had retorted, even in the process of doing exactly as instructed.

It had been uttered so many times in the halls of the manor that morning that Cassandra had to speak out. Sitting curled up on a living room chair in her fluffy white robe and her hair sopping wet in a towel, she looked at the rest of the residents of Wayne Manor and asked, “What does he, um, mean?”

Damian rolled his eyes, arms firmly crossed against his chest. “Grayson is being dramatic.”

Which, of course, Cassandra _knew_ but it didn’t help. So she looked to Tim who was picking at the silverware Alfred had handed him back.

“We lived there, too,” she said as if Tim needed reminding.

“I don’t know, Dick’s weird,” Tim said unhelpfully, far more concerned with the knife. “What was wrong with this one?”

“It isn’t polished, Master Timothy,” Alfred sighed testily.

“I thought it looked nice already,” Tim muttered before beginning to work on the knife again all the same. As he worked, he glanced up to Cassandra’s face and must have noticed her distinct uncertainty. “Dick still lives in Blüdhaven, Cass, I don’t think he means it as a point in the negative against her.”

“Yeah, Dick _never_ says anything negative about ‘Haven while he’s home,” Duke said sarcastically as he entered the room from the kitchen. He was in nice pressed pants and had a polo shirt on that he was fussing with.

Immediately, Cassandra remembered everything Dick had said about Blüdhaven just since he came home that weekend. He talked about the traffic, the noise, the landlords, the corruption, the sidewalks. He had many comments to make about Blüdhaven in many tones of voice.

But, because it _mattered_ to Cassandra, more then than ever, she knew that Dick’s exact tone was different on the subject of Brenda.

_She’s from Blüdhaven._

“You look like you are joining the Gotham County Country Club,” Damian sneered at Duke.

Duke bristled. “I want to look good,” he said. “It’s important to Cass.”

Tim looked at his sweatshirt. “Should I change?”

“Yes,” Damian said without hesitation. “Take Thomas with you so he can change as well.”

Cassandra glanced over Damian curiously. He looked like a mini cat burglar in his black turtleneck and black slacks. “Not changing?”

Damian squinted at her. “Why? Are you?” He gestured pointedly toward her robe and towel.

While she _had_ planned on changing, Cassandra had not put much thought into _what_ exactly she was going to change into. Brenda had seen her in a great many outfits by that point, from beat-up grunge to punk rocking party to leather-clad biker chick. Brenda had also seen what Batgirl looked like, but how much of that Brenda had connected to Cassandra was still a mystery.

Brenda visiting the manor felt as though it should have been something more remarkable, more _different_ than those outfits.

“Maybe,” Cassandra finally answered truthfully.

“Miss Cassandra, with all due respect, you _shall_ be entertaining guests in more than the robe from your bathroom floor,” Alfred said sharply.

That made Cass shift somewhat uncomfortably. Alfred didn’t seem to have much of an opinion on Brenda visiting, but he _did_ have the air of anxiety that Cass saw in him whenever every single one of them was at the manor at the same time. As though he did not trust them to behave.

Which then brought Cassandra to a horrifying realization.

She probably shouldn’t trust her family with Brenda’s first visit either.

“Oh, no,” she said, burying her face in her hands.

Duke, Tim, and Damian all glanced at each other then back to Cassandra with mutual concern.

“This will be bad,” Cass finally surmised, rising to her feet and leaving the room. She nearly walked into Dick on her way and slid uncomfortably past the oldest of the Wayne children as he looked around in confusion.

Clinging to the navy table runner, Dick stiffened. “What? What is it? Did she call and cancel? She _is_ from Blüdhaven.”

Cassandra let out a frustrated growl and kicked the door closed behind her, no doubt hitting Dick’s backside with the heavy oak.

* * *

It had been a lonely move to Blüdhaven.

Bruce had less suggested and more formally ordered Cassandra to make the move, to follow Tim into new territory and keep him safe. In hindsight, adding to Cassandra’s protective instincts had been a clever cover. More than anything, what Bruce had wanted was for Batman to be alone again after the gang wars in Gotham. Cassandra would have never let him had the circumstances been different.

But she needed the space, needed to branch out and become her own person. And at the time, she had thought becoming _Batman_ was going to do that for her.

She still thought it, in some ways.

Less in others.

Such as, she knew that Bruce would have never met Brenda.

Brenda owned her own tea and coffee shop, was about as counterculture as they came, and had taken an interest in Cass in a way no one had.

At first, it was a simple misunderstanding about what Cassandra’s nightlife actually was. Later, it became something different. Routine.

After a while, there hadn’t been a single morning without Cassandra seeing Brenda, being in her shop, sharing her breakfast.

The routine was as much a part of Cassandra’s life as gearing up as Batgirl at night. And when Stephanie Brown came back into her life, suddenly Cassandra had someone else’s perspective on what was going on.

And, Cassandra could still see the funny look on Stephanie’s face when Brenda came by for their order.

“She didn’t ask for yours,” Steph pointed out.

“Oh, I’m,” Cassandra gestured unhelpfully, “the usual.”

“So you know each other,” the interrogation continued.

“Yes?” Cass answered back since she genuinely did not know where they could be going with any of it.

Stephanie gave a frustrated sound before scooting her seat in closer to the table, leaning in with her shoulders up as if guarding her words against any nearby listeners. “She smiled at you when you came in and did that little wave thing before dropping other customers to come talk to us.”

Squinting, Cassandra nodded. “Yeah?” Then, because it seemed relevant, “She smiles at customers.”

“Cass, she,” Steph made another noise and then gestured again but restrained by the tenseness of her shoulders, “gave you a smile-smile and not the _service-worker-dead-on-the-inside-smile._ I know the difference. I’ve _given_ the difference. It’s very,” she paused and then gestured again, hands resting on the table definitively, “ _different.”_

Somewhat offended, Cassandra placed a hand on her chest. “I know _body language,_ Stephanie.”

“So you _know_ you’re being flirted with?” Stephanie asked suspiciously, her voice growing quieter as Brenda approached with their orders.

Caught somewhat off guard, Cass continued to stare straight at her best friend’s face as Brenda sat down Cass’ normal breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, and tea, then moved on to put down Stephanie’s waffles and coffee. Of which, Stephanie partook in the coffee almost immediately.

“Anything else I can help you all with?” Brenda asked, looking between the two of them. Her smile shifted from Steph to Cass, growing a certain softness in the corners just below the new nose ring that Cassandra had noticed the moment they walked in.

“Yes,” Cass said directly, “have we been flirting?”

Brenda’s face dropped into surprise and Stephanie choked and nearly died on her coffee.

It didn’t take too terribly long after making yet another scene in Brenda’s tea shop that Cassandra began to see Brenda outside of the shop more often. And in a month’s time, Cassandra realized horribly, terribly, that she was in deep. That she cared more about the relationship than she could have possibly imagined. And then, worst of all, that she needed to arrange to make things more formal, more official.

She had to get Bruce involved.

* * *

Long before getting others involved, Cassandra knew that Bruce Wayne, by definition, was _bad_ at it. The whole deal.

The saying, the knowing, the doing.

What she had underestimated at the time, was how bad _Barbara Gordon_ was at the same things.

“I just find it interesting,” Babs admitted. Her eyes were downcast, concentrating on flattening out the wrinkles in the outfit over her knees. “You were radio silent on me for so long, then we were talking regularly again. Stephanie gets into town and she gets more information out of you than I have for the better part of a year.”

Cass finished blow-drying her hair and glanced at her own image in the mirror. Her body was covered in scars and Cass hardly remembered where the majority of them came from. They bleakly lined her contours and muscles, traced out stories she had forgotten to tell over the years. They were all conversation starters, to be certain, but Cassandra was as bad at _conversation_ as Barbara and Bruce were at the parent thing.

“Steph told you,” Cass tried to suss out, walking through the door from the bathroom to her room in the manor.

Barbara was in her chair, holding up the outfit that she helped Cassandra pick out. It was a gold, sleeveless blouse with a collar. The black pants were high waisted. It was nice, simple, eloquent.

Maybe too much? Maybe not enough?

“Where’s your jewelry?” Barbara redirected the conversation.

“Where’s yours?” Cass asked, rolling her eyes as she walked nakedly over to Babs.

“When he let me in, Alfred made it sound like you were about to have this whole thing happen with nothing but a robe on,” Babs mused. “Now you’re getting all fancy. And asking me _girl advice,_ which is a nice change of pace.”

“Not why you’re here,” Cass groaned, putting on her underwear and glancing toward her shoes strewn across the room. Alfred had just cleaned up the room yesterday, too. “Here for Bruce.”

 _That_ got a wounded reaction from Barbara and she crossed her arms. “Why in the world would I be here for _Bruce?”_

Cassandra pulled a face and took her pants from Barbara’s lap. “Because he gets… weird.”

“Well, he is the _expert_ at that where any of your romantic lives are concerned,” Barbara admitted, tapping a finger on her chin. “One time when Dick and I were younger…”

After Cassandra pulled on her pants she glanced curiously at Barbara. She wasn’t certain where the Oracle was going with the story.

After a faint blush appeared on Babs’ cheeks, she shook her head and threw Cass’ blouse at her. “Forget it. My point is that I understand a little bit better. But, Cassie,” she paused and then looked up at Cassandra with furrowed brows, “don’t you think I would be interested in meeting this girl who is so important to you, too? You’re… you’re _my girl._ I worry about you. I care about you. And I hoped, even though we had a rough patch, you’d know I would still want to have a part in your life, too.”

“Of course,” Cass said easily, because it _was_ that simple. “You’ve always been like,” she stopped and rose to her full height again. When she looked down at Barbara and could see the way Babs held her breath with uncertainty. “You’ve always been like a _mother.”_

“Oh,” Barbara said, releasing that breath. “I just thought you needed… I only wanted…” Closing her eyes, Barbara put a hand on her heart and grew a soft smile. “Thank you, Cass.”

“Right,” Cass said, offering a small smile in return. She then pointed toward her door. “But Bruce is… _Dad._ And he is…”

Without notice, the door to Cassandra’s bedroom flew open and Bruce stood in it. He had a stern look on his face and was dressed in _identical_ black turtleneck and slacks to Damian. His chest was puffed up and his hair slicked back with mousse. It was the oddest combination of _Brucie Wayne_ and _Batman_ that Cassandra had ever seen in his posture.

Then he looked down at the two of them.

“The company is approaching from the Southgate,” he informed them grimly.

The women stared back at him.

“Yes, well, that would be the driveway, Bruce,” Barbara offered.

Slowly, Bruce nodded before walking down the hall.

Cassandra glanced at Barbara at the same time she glanced back to Cass. She was still pointing at the door. “Weird,” Cass finished at last.

“Oh god,” Babs sighed, rubbing tiny circles into her temples. “It’s going to be one of _those_ nights.”

* * *

Brenda was beautiful.

Cassandra had wanted to rush down the staircase of the manor and open the door herself, but she knew that Alfred made for a better greeting. And Cass was there, in the foyer, almost as quick all the same.

There was an unsettled way Brenda tucked hair behind her ear, in the way she laughed nervously behind the glint of her glasses. But she was regal. A cream top with a red cardigan that just _popped_ with her hair. She had on a simple skirt and boots, and Cassandra had never felt _coolness_ radiate from a wardrobe the way Brenda’s always did. All the nervous energy built up and Brenda was still just _cool_ and _awesome_ and the person that Cassandra was most interested in spending the rest of her afternoon with.

When Brenda’s gaze fell on Cass, she melted into an easier gait and smiled — that _real_ smile Stephanie had been talking about — and walked quickly to meet Cass and take her into a gentle hug.

Because she could not resist, Cassandra made a point to tighten the embrace.

“Thanks for coming,” Cass breathed against Brenda’s neck.

“How could I say no?” Brenda laughed in return. She held Cass back just enough to look her in the face. “Oh, look at that, I didn’t know you could look worried.”

Cass scrunched up her face in confusion. “I am?”

“If you’re not worried then you’re definitely constipated,” Brenda joked, lightly tapping Cass with her elbow. “But I seriously hope you’re worried because it’d be nice to not be the only one nervous.”

As she looked over Brenda, over the time they had had, over the infinite number of small moments where the woman went out of her way to show her true character to a complete stranger, Cass smiled. With both her hands, she took in Brenda’s hand and squeezed tightly. She felt over the calloused hands of a hard worker, of a business owner thin from feeding the hungry more than herself.

“No reason to be nervous,” Cassandra assured her.

Brenda stared back lovingly.

The gaze between them might have never broken off if Bruce hadn’t swept in from nowhere and clapped a hand on Brenda’s shoulder.

“If it isn’t our dear Miss Miller!” He said with gravitas more fitting of opening a charity function than of welcoming a daughter’s girlfriend.

“Bruce,” Cass said flatly.

“O-oh! Hello, Mr. Wayne,” Brenda muttered, words blending together as she looked starstruck. “Wow, you’re really tall. I don’t know why I didn’t think you were. Cass is just not tall. And I know she’s adopted. Uh, not that adopted families are different. Just that she’s not tall. And I haven’t met you. And you’re tall.”

As soon as the fountain of words had stopped spilling over Brenda’s lips, she looked frantically to Cass.

Cass just stared back at her in confusion.

“How is your business doing?” Bruce asked, voice growing sharper as his brows settled over his eyes. It was _suspiciously_ cowl-like.

“Bruce,” Cass repeated.

“It’s totally fine,” Brenda laughed awkwardly, offering a thumbs up. “Thanks to a fantastic business program I got into. Through Wayne Enterprises, actually.”

“No kidding,” Bruce said without even the ability to feign surprise.

“He’s being weird,” Cassandra said more to herself than to Brenda or Alfred.

“Indeed, Miss,” Alfred sighed in a long-suffering fashion.

“Wow, a small business is doing well in Blüdhaven?” Damian’s voice droned from the back of the hall.

Cassandra’s head snapped toward the end of the hall where she could see all four of her present brothers’ heads leaning out from behind the same door. Dick leaned over and softly bopped Damian over the back of his head.

“Shh, only people in Blüdhaven can say that,” Dick informed their youngest.

Brenda was looking distinctly overwhelmed as she glanced back over to Cassandra.

“Brothers,” she said, waving her hand to indicate each head from tallest to shortest. “Dick. Duke. Tim. Damian.” She then pointed to a photograph along the wall of Jason. “Not present.”

“Oh, boy,” Brenda laughed nervously. “I didn’t quite, uh, get the message on how big of a crowd this was going to be. Lots of names to remember.”

Bruce was unmoved, his arms crossed as he leaned in with fake curiosity. “Damian is right about the turnover rate for small businesses in inner Blüdhaven being unusually high. I know the general neighborhood where Cassandra was living, too. How is business? Have you considered diversifying your retail?”

“Retail?” Brenda laughed as she repeated. “Um, I suppose I could. It’s… a tea shop, though.”

Cassandra released a pained noise and pushed on Bruce’s shoulders to get him to step away and toward the kitchen. “Stop! You’re being weird. It’s just like Super—“ she stopped herself and glanced back to Brenda before pushing Bruce along again. “Conner.”

Even the mention of the prior relationship made Bruce stiffen and become immovable. “Is it?”

“Bruce!” Barbara barked, pushing her chair from the lift’s hallway. She glared at Bruce and made a point of bumping his leg as she passed him to get to Brenda. He didn’t let out a grunt but he moved and Barbara was free to shake Brenda’s hand. “Hey there, I’m Barbara. You must be the absolutely stunning young woman Cassandra has been so happy with recently. We’re very excited to see you. If you can’t tell.”

Unhelpfully, Cass gestured to Barbara. “They’re being _weird,”_ she expressed.

“Yes, Cassie, that’s what they do,” Babs said. “I’ll wrangle them all while you show Brenda the lay of the land.” She then looked affectionately toward Brenda and said, “We’re a weird bunch here because we love Cass a lot. And we’re just happy to meet someone who’s made her happy. So forgive us, but you’ll get used to it as part of the family.”

Barbara was fearless as she grabbed Bruce by the elbow and led him toward the dining room where the boys were standing. He walked along, asking _how_ he was being weird as Alfred followed with a shake of his head. And at that moment, Cassandra remembered all over again why Barbara Gordon was her hero.

“Part of the family, huh?” Brenda asked, looking sidelong at Cass. “Think you’ll keep me around that long.”

Sighing with relief, Cass squeezed Brenda’s hand and nodded again. “Yes.”


End file.
